


Never Smile at a Crocodile

by leprechaungreen



Category: One Piece
Genre: Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Slow Burn, also crocodile is the best character in one piece, as in he's not even there until like 6 chapters in, even though it's about crocodile and the oc it's mostly about the oc, hey can you tell I don't know what I'm doing, i created an entire island of them for the purposes of this story, i like my crocodiles realistic, i mean really slow, i think this is too many tags, is this too many tags?, look i'm going through finals and i wanted a good crocodile fic, this is the hill upon which i choose to die, where he doesn't kill them at the end but he also isn't a giant teddybear, you can barely tell that this is a one piece fanfic there are so many ocs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:39:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leprechaungreen/pseuds/leprechaungreen
Summary: May Shira has been living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere all 28 years of her life, and is thinking of becoming a marine like her half-brother so she can get away from it all.  But on an island where pirate ships are spotted once every twenty years (if you're lucky), suddenly they've received warning that two appear to be headed their way.  After a devastating attack, she is left with no choice but to make a deal with a Crocodile to save her home; and the price she must pay is a little unexpected, to say the least.





	1. An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! I don't know if you read the tags, but this is going to be a very slow story, with an even slower start. I've never liked it when the main character is an OC but you're thrust into the action so quickly you couldn't give two shits about them, so I decided to go for the opposite extreme. Enjoy!

Not every island in the New World is wracked with monsters, poverty, pirates, marines, or any other manner of plague.  Some are lucky to have just enough land and other natural resources to have a thriving town of carefree citizens, but are too small and/or insignificant for anyone particularly important to notice.  Most tourists are simply merchants wealthy enough to own a personal ship, bringing their families for a quaint little getaway in a quaint little village with quaint little shops and quaint little people.  The only pirates who are small enough to have one of these islands on their radar are too small to stand up to even a militia, let alone any trained soldiers. Because in order for one of these islands to thrive without assistance from any larger powers, they need to have some hardy people - and these hardy people tend to have a fondness for weaponry.

One of these particular islands, in about three days, is going to run shit outta luck.

The island of Narvienne is roughly 10,000 nautical miles out of the way of anyone who might possibly care about it.  Not quite as technologically advanced as some larger kingdoms, but it’s had enough visitors that it’s not backwoods, either.  Agriculture is their largest source of food - the second largest is hunting. This island is unique to most others like it, as it does harbor one fearsome breed of monster, a breed that repopulates almost as quickly as it is slain.

These predators are Moth Bears.  Fifteen feet tall and weighing in at half a ton, their danger lies in more than just their size.  Though they lack the wings of their namesake (thank God), they have patterns resembling most moths, allowing them to camoflauge somewhat into their environment, and they possess antennae that can sense their prey from over 7 miles away.  Their fur is as soft as their claws are sharp, and their meat twice as delicious. This means that, while a dangerous target for a hunting party, the reward trumps the risk. The skins and salted meats are a valuable source of business with the rare trader that comes their way, and these resources are also necessary to get the townspeople through the harsh winters.

These hunting parties set out into the forest near constantly in the spring or fall, when the bears are most active - it’s normally far too hot or cold for them to leave their caves much at all in the summer or winter.  And as the winter is the harshest time of year for every creature on the island, the only time in particular anyone gets a break is during the summer, when all the townspeople have to worry about is their farms and the few tourists that will cycle through.

At this moment, Narvienne is preparing for the coming spring, only a little over a month away.  The hunters are sharpening their swords, the farmers are getting ready for the planting season, and the businesses that had been snowed in for the majority of the winter are cleaning up their shops in the hopes of customers.

Also at this moment, our protagonist is coming home just in time for dinner.  But she’ll be fine on her own for now. Let me draw your attention to the source of Narvienne’s blooming misfortune, approximately 1,500 nautical miles to the east.

The Red Knee pirates are a crew of rookies originating primarily from Alabasta.  When Baroque works had been disbanded, close to none of the Billions had been apprehended.  They had already been hidden in the crowds, after all. After hearing of their loss, why would they ever reveal themselves?  However, with Crocodile and most of his direct subordinates arrested or eliminated, as well as the disappearance of Miss All Sunday (and subsequent reappearance of Nico Robin as a member of the Straw Hat Pirates), they had an overabundance of bloodthirsty warriors and a severe lack of leadership.  A combination like this might have lead to further attacks against the crown - however, the strongest of the Billions rose up, defeated any challengers that came her way, and gained a loyal following.

Nine months later, six months after the Battle of Marineford, these forgotten agents recruited a large number of former Rebel soldiers - men who still didn’t trust the crown, regardless of the triumph over Crocodile proving the royal family innocent.  Their new leader directed them to steal one of the merchant ships in the harbor, and the Red Knee pirates were born, 300 in number. Their captain: Jones Blu, formerly Miss Cloth.

In conclusion, this means that the Red Knee pirates are rookie enough to have a small island on their radar, powerful enough to face a small militia or army, and experienced enough to know of Narvienne’s existence.  And after a few weeks of raiding with little success, a beautiful, largely unnoticed island was exactly what Jones Blu thought they needed.

Her first mate, however, preferred to be cautious.

“Blu, please, listen to reason,” Greenie begged, his numerous facial scars shifting and twisting with desperation in the candlelit cabin.

“And what reason would you be referring to?”  She taunted, leaning back in her chair, boots kicked up onto the desk.  “The reason that tells me that we’re running out of food? Out of money?”  The woman pulled a blade out of a hidden sheath in her coat, and used it to dig at her fingernails.  “How about the secret resentment the rebel soldiers have for the Billions? Or the fact that we’ve been at this for weeks and only fucked over one pirate crew?  The men are getting restless, Greenie.” She took her feet down, and walked around to the other side of the desk to loom over him. “Or should I listen to the same reason that’s telling you to be a coward?”

“Blu,” he tried again, “those things may very well be, but we had bounties _before_ you became captain of a pirate crew.  And now that Crocodile is back in the game, people might think they can use us to find him.  If we’re discovered too soon, any one of the schmucks outside that door -” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly towards the exit, “- might sell us out for a quick buck!”

Jones snorted, rolling her icy blue eyes, but Greenie continued.

“We can attack pirate crews all the livelong day, because as long as we sink them, no one reports us.  Even if one of them lives, no outlaw is gonna make a call to the marines. But an island?” He started to pace, running his hands over his bald head.  “The second we dock, one of them could send a distress signal, and we’re done for!”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if they send a distress signal, Greenie, and do you wanna know why?”  Jones shouted, stepping into his path and staring him down. “Because that island is in the middle of nowhere!  The fastest ship on the planet couldn’t get to Narvienne from a marine base in less than five days. We can be in and out in three.”

“Marines aren’t the only people who get distress signals, Blu!”  He argued back, standing on the balls of his feet to get in her face, her blonde hair creating a curtain around them.  “What if another pirate crew responds?”

She blinked, almost surprised, then laughed, loud and long, driving her knife into the desk to steady herself before she fell over.  Greenie stumbled back in shock. It took her a good minute to catch her breath, clutching her stomach to stop the giggles. Finally, she spoke.

“No pirate captain worth his salt is gonna respond to a distress signal that far away from civilization, when nine times outta ten it turns out to be a trap.”  Jones fully composed herself, crossing her arms and leaning on the front of her desk. “You gave it a shot, Greenie. I admire your effort, but you’re not the captain here.”  With a tug, she recovered her blade, and started cleaning underneath her fingernails again, a clear sign of dismissal. “Go outside and tell Grayson to set a course for Narvienne.”

He reached out a hand, hoping to make one last bid for what he saw as the smarter decision.  “Blu-”

“That’s Captain Jones to you, Greenie,” she retorted, a sinister glint entering her eye.  “And you better not forget it. Now go set our navigator to navigating, or I’ll throw your froggie ass into the ocean.”

Greenie stopped in his tracks, stayed still a moment, then let his arm drop to his side.  Heaving a deep sigh, he left the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wHO'S READY TO MEET THE MAIN CHARACTER

**Thursday, February 17, 1523**

**9:00 AM**

**2 Days, 13 Hours, 4 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“DAD!”

“WHAT?!”

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY UNIFORM?!”

“I HUNG IT UP TO DRY!”

_ -pause- _

“WHERE?!”

“THE LAUNDRY ROOM!”

“OH.”

_ -pause- _

“IS BREAKFAST READY?”

“DO YOU HAVE TIME TO EAT IT?!”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT,” Shira yelled, before almost tripping and tumbling down the stairs on her way out.  “I’ll just throw some of it into a bag and take it with me,” she decided, running into the kitchen.

May Shira was born and raised on Narvienne, just like almost every other person on the island. At 28 years old, she lived with her father and brother on a small chicken farm West of the town square, East of Black Mountain, and worked at the town’s only café during the week.  Single adults choosing to live with their families wasn’t unusual here. If you wanted to move out, you needed to build a house, and it’s far easier to do that with a partner. Safer for everyone to live in small groups, anyway.

May Arthur was standing at the sink, washing a pot and looking out the window, when Shira walked in.  “Morning, Dad,” she said, trying in vain to hug him and put her shoes on at the same time. She almost fell over.

Needless to say, it didn’t work out very well.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he returned, setting the pot down on the drying rack and grabbing a towel to wash his hands.  When he turned around, he found his daughter attempting to chug coffee and dump a plate of bacon and eggs into a lunch bag simultaneously.  However, this wasn’t and unusual sight, so he simply continued. “Is your brother up yet?”

She set the mug down, and threw her lunch bag into her purse.  “Nah, but considering the shouting, at the very least he’s awake.  Any plans for today?”

He shook his head, and poured a mug of coffee for himself.  “Nothing other than taking care of the chickens. Maybe I’ll come visit you at the shop around noon.”

“No, you can’t, we’re not open yet,” Shira corrected, finally getting her laces tied.  “We don’t open until Monday. Today and tomorrow we’re just cleaning and setting up, working out the selections for the season, that sort of thing.”

Arthur furrowed his brow, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table.  “Why do you have to wear the uniform, then?”

Shira rolled her eyes.  “Some dumb thing Niri said about keeping up appearances or whatever.  It’s stupid, but she’s the boss.” Finally ready, she grabbed her coat, pulled it over her arms, and braced for the cold wind as she opened the front door.  “Love you, see you tonight!”

“Love you, too,” he called out, just before she ran out into the snow.

 

**1:17 PM**

**2 Days, 8 Hours, 47 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

Shira shot up from where she’d been dozing off on the counter.  “Jacques, what the fuck did you just say?”

“Language!”  Flora scolded, lifting her head from looking over the menu to glare at her friend.

“Sorry,” she apologized absentmindedly, hopping down from the counter.  “Jacques, can you repeat that?”

He turned from where he’d been talking to Niri, brushing his curly red hair out of his eyes.  “Yeah, it’s nuts, right?”

“What’s nuts?”  Flora interjected again, setting the menu aside to devote her attention to the conversation.

“Two pirate crews have been spotted headed towards our area in the last two weeks,” Niri responded, leaning back into her chair and tapping her fingers on the counter.  “If they continued on the paths they were seen taking, then by now, they could be as close as 1,000 nautical miles away.”

“Oh,” Flora said, almost disappointed, before returning to the menu.  Shira did a double take.

“Whaddaya mean, ‘oh?’”  She asked, incredulous. “Two pirate crews that could be heading our way?  When was the last time this happened, if ever?”

Flora shrugged.  By far the most cynical person in the room, Jordan Flora was Shira’s oldest friend.  She was petite and bespectacled, with her mousy brown hair cut in a bob.

“No pirates have landed here since we were toddlers, and they’ve never gotten much further than the harbor, anyhow.  They’re probably just a couple of newbie ships with crap navigators.” She absentmindedly turned the page, and made a correction with a little red pen.  “We’ll kick ‘em around for a while, and send them on their way. Maybe take their ship and toss ‘em into the ocean if they’re feeling persistent.”

Shira, needing something to do with her hands, grabbed a rag and wrung it out, wiping down the counter with it.  “What if they’re in league with each other? We’ve never faced more than one at a time!” She glanced over at Niri, who was flipping through the local paper.  “Is it in the news?”

The woman nodded, passing the paper to Jacques, before standing so she could stretch.  Average height, stocky, with pale skin and her black hair pulled back into a bun, Madora Niri was the only business owner in town who opened any earlier than March.  After a long winter, all most people really wanted was a hot cup of coffee in a cozy shop.

“Yeah, apparently the mayor got a bird from the closest marine base a couple days ago talking about it.  They didn’t use the Den Den Mushi because theirs was out of order, and they don’t really think it’s important, either.”

Flora lazily waved her hand in the air.  “See? They don’t see an issue -”

“But,” Jacques interrupted, throwing up a finger, “only one of them looks like a rookie boat.  It’s about an average size, and their jolly roger has a red skull and crossbones on it - they’re speculating that it might be a stolen merchant ship.  The other one is apparently a warship.” He folded up the paper, and set it down on the table. His brown eyes rolled over it, almost calculating. “The only reason they know it’s pirates is because the flag is black.  They never got a look at their jolly roger.”

Shira threw the rag back into the wash bucket on the other side of the room, then turned to address Flora.  “Are you kidding me? It’s a fucking warship -”

“Language -!”

“- how do you not have a problem with that?!”

“Shira, relax,” Niri soothed, walking over to pat her employee on the back.  “Nowadays, the average warship can reach at least 40 knots. This was two weeks ago.  We don’t know about the other ship, but if these guys were aiming for us, they would be here already.”

“Yeah,” Jacques chimed in, getting up to join the group.  Jacques was a beanpole in every sense of the word; six-foot-whatever and skinny as a twig, he’d been a bit of an outcast until he’d started working at the bakery.  The youngest of the bunch at 21 (Shira and Flora were the same age, Niri about 34) they hadn’t associated with him beforehand. Now, however, he was a staple in their group.  “Everything’ll be okay, Shira. Everything always is okay. Nobody cares about us out here, and that includes pirates.”

“Still,” she grumbled quietly, “we should get ready.”  She grabbed a crowbar, and went to the back open some of the supply boxes.  “I’m buying ammo on the way home today.”

The three of them watched Shira stomp to the back room in silence.  After a few seconds, Jacques spoke up.

“Is she okay?”  He shoved his hands into his pockets, and scuffed the ground with his shoe.  “She seems a little… paranoid, lately.”

“No, this is normal,” Flora said, scratching out a price on the menu.  “Pirate sightings always put her on edge, ‘cause of the one I mentioned earlier.”

“She lost her mother in that attack,” Niri clarified softly, when Jacques opened his mouth again.

“Oh.”  He just stood still a moment more, then sat back down.

“She’ll be fine after a week or so, when no one shows up,” Flora assured him, putting down her pen and looking up.  “Niri, I’m gonna go make a final copy of the menu. Are you guys okay here? Need anything?”

Niri and Jacques shook their heads.  “No, we’ll be fine,” their boss said.  “We’re a little ahead of schedule, so we’ll just finish up here while Shira restocks the store.  Tomorrow we can all just do a final onceover, and afterwards you guys can stick around or head out, your choice.”

Flora nodded.  “Sounds good. See you guys tomorrow.”  She walked around the counter to the front door.  “Bye Shira!”

There was a muffled response from the back room, and that was it.  Flora shrugged, and left, the store’s bell ringing with the opening and closing of the door.

Niri and Jacques just looked at each other for a bit.

“So…” Jacques prompted.  “Back to work?”

“Back to work.”

 

**7:32 PM**

**2 Days, 2 Hours, 32 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“Shira!”  Jon called out when she came in from the snow.  “Crawford is calling on the Den Den Mushi!”

Shira dropped her bag, threw her coat onto a kitchen chair, and ran into the living room.  Without hesitation, she jumped, and rolled over the top of the couch to sit next to her brother.

“How’s life treating you on the marine base, Craw?!” she asked into the receiver with excitement.

“It’s been treating me pretty well, can’t complain,” her half brother replied.  “How’s life been for you? Jon told me that the cafe is opening soon.”

“Yeah, opens on Monday, we spent today cleaning, whatever,” she quickly answered and dismissed, wanting to move on to more important topics.  “Did you hear about the pirates that might be heading our way?”

“What do you mean, pirates?” Jon asked, confused, just as Crawford let out a groan.

“I did hear about that.  Jon, it’s that a navy base spotted two ships with jolly rogers heading in your direction about two weeks ago.”

Jon frowned.  “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.  Really, it’s probably nothing, but I asked my superior if we could send a ship to patrol out there, just in case something goes down.”

“Oh, thank god,” Shira sighed, sinking back into the couch.

“He refused.”

“God damnit.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” he continued, regret in his voice.  “I did all I could, but with all the trouble that the Worst Generation’s been causing since the War, we don’t have any ships to spare.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and Jon gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.  “It’s not your fault, at least you tried.”

“Glad you’re not holding a grudge,” Crawford replied, bemused.  “But anyways. Jon, you mind giving us a moment?”

“Aw, what?” He whined playfully.  “That’s not fair!”

“Jon…”

“Alright, okay,” he gave in.  Standing and straightening his clothes, he then leaned over to tap Shira on the shoulder.  “Before I leave, Dad’s out splitting wood, shouldn’t be in for another hour. He asked if you could make dinner.”

She nodded quickly.  “Sure, no problem.” She waited with baited breath as he walked away, listening for the sound of his bedroom door closing, before she addressed Crawford again.

“Okay, all clear.”

“Have you talked to your dad about joining yet?”  He asked immediately, almost interrupting her.

Shira winced.  “Uh, no, not yet.”  Crawford groaned again.

“C’mon, kiddo, you can’t leave it this long!  If you want to be a marine, you have to tell him eventually -”

“That’s the thing, though!” She exclaimed, falling lengthwise into the old couch with a  _ fwump.   _ “I don’t even know if I want to be a marine.  I just know that I want to get the hell off this island.”

“Well, unless you want to be a pirate -”

“Fuck, no -!”

“- there’s no other way to leave,” he finished.  “Even if you wait for a merchant to drop by, one of those bastards would extort you for all you’re worth.”

She sighed.  “I know, just…” she looked out the window, into the forest.  She could just see the light of her dad’s lantern gleaming faintly in the dark.  “... just give me a few more days. I’ll make up my mind, and if I really want to join, I’ll talk to dad.”

“Atta girl,” he said, sounding proud.  He was silent for a moment, and then spoke.  “Alright, I gotta go, they’re yelling at me for hogging the Den Den Mushi.  Tell Jon I love him, and tell your dad I said hi.”

“No problem, Craw.  Love you.”

“Love you too.”  And with that, he hung up.

Shira dropped the receiver, and closed her eyes, giving herself a few minutes to collect her thoughts.  Then she stood up, took a deep breath, and went off to make dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this installment, Shira tries to convince others to make her decision for her

**Friday, February 18, 1523**

**12:22 PM**

**1 Day, 9 Hours, 42 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“I have returned!”  Shira announced regally, waltzing outside through the back door.  She found Jon up on a ladder, repairing the roof damage from some of the heavier blizzards back in January.

“Shit,” he muttered, wobbling slightly on the ladder.  “Be more careful, will ya? You startled me, I’m in a precarious position over here.”

“Oh, ‘precarious,’” she teased, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand as she looked up at him.  “Where did you learn such a fancy new word?”

“I learned it by reading books, you should try it sometime.”

She waved him off.  “Books, schmooks, why read for fun when I can do dumb things instead?”  He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Anyway, you got a second?”

“Uh, kinda busy over here?”  He mentioned, hammering a new shingle into place.

“Come on,” Shira wheedled, “I’ll make you some hot cocoa?”

He paused, and thought for a moment.  “Fine,” he decided, making his way down the ladder.  “You have twenty minutes. Clock’s ticking.”

“Yes,” she hissed, dashing inside to get started on the chocolatey drink.

Five minutes later, the two of them were sitting across from each other, each gripping a warm mug.  Shira just sorta studied her brother while she tried to figure out how to start.

Most people they knew assumed they were twins upon meeting them, even though Jon was her elder by a year.  Same cheekbones, same nose, same curly brown hair, same blue-green-hazel-mishmosh eyes. He was just a little taller, a little skinnier, a little more serious-looking.  It made her nervous to stare him down, so she focused on her drink instead.

Jon made to take a sip, flinched at the temperature, and put it back down.  “So,” he began, “is this about the marine thing?”

Shira,  who’d forgone caution in favor of scalding her esophagus, choked on her hot cocoa.  Coughing and spluttering, she squeaked out, “How did you know?”

Jon gave her a specific look, a ‘You-really-think-I’m-that-stupid?’ type of look.  “What else would you have sent me out of the room to talk about last night?” He asked, blowing on his drink.  “Besides, you’re not exactly the quietest person in the world.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed in her own inability to keep a secret.  “Well, uh, yeah. It’s about that.”

“Hm.”  He finally took a sip, and swallowed.  “Glad you finally decided to speak up.”

She swirled the chocolate in her mug, keeping her eyes down.  “Yeah. And, um, I actually wanted to ask what you think I should do.”

“What?”

It took her a second to speak up.  “Well, I don’t really know for sure what I want to do.”

“How do you not know what you want to do?”  He asked, befuddled. “You either want to be a marine or not.  It’s that simple.”

Shira quietly fall forward and banged her head on the table.   _ I should have known this would happen.   _ “It’s really not, though.”

“You’re gonna have to explain this to me, then, because I don’t understand how you could not know whether you want to do something.”

“Because I don’t really want to be a marine,” she whined, voice muffled by the table.  “I just wanna get off this stupid island.”

Jon put down his mug, and frowned.  “What’s wrong with this island? It’s a good island.”

Shira picked her face up, and leaned her head on her hand.  “Yeah, but it’s so boring, though.”

“Every three months we have monsters trying to invade from the forest, how is that boring?”

“But it’s the same damn thing, year after year,” she elaborated.  “Nothing surprising ever happens. The routine is maddening.”

“Look, Shira,” Jon said, leaning in and looking her in the eye.  “If you want to get off this island, there are other ways, though I agree that becoming a marine is your safest bet.  But what you need to do is look ahead. Ask yourself if, in fifty years, you’ll be happy with your decision.”

He sat back, and drained his cocoa.  “I can’t tell you what you want, so that’s all the advice I can give.”

She pouted at him.  “I’m getting a second opinion.”

He shrugged.  “Fine by me, but I’m willing to bet no one else is gonna be much better.”  His chair scratched against the wooden floor as he stood up, and cracked his back.  “Tonight is when you usually hang out with your friends, right? Just ask them. One of them is bound to be willing to bullshit you.”

“I intend to!”  Shira squawked, indignant.  “And they would never bullshit me!”  She stopped, and thought about it for a moment.  “Okay, maybe Jacques or Niri, but not Flora.”

Jon nodded.  “Fair enough.  I’m heading back out to finish up.  When you leave, let me know.” He waved, and exited the kitchen.

Shira was left contemplating the dregs of her hot cocoa.

 

**11:53 PM**

**22 Hours, 11 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“Aw, that one was lousy,” Shira scowled, watching in disappointment as the rock skipped ten paces, then sank quietly into the waves.

“Fuck you, that wash waaaaayyy better than mine,” Jacques slurred from his seat by the fire, his cider almost slipping from his hand.  Flora smacked him across the back of the head, almost sending him forward into the flames.

“Gee, I wonder why,” she mouthed off sarcastically, taking a sip of her ale.  “Maybe it’s because you’re piss drunk.”

Shira crouched down to find another rock.  “Hey, at least he’s conscious, unlike Sleepy over there,” she said, jerking her head to gesture towards Niri, who had passed out on the sand seven feet from the campfire.

“I wish he wasn’t,” she murmured, snide, pulling on his shoulder as he leaned too far forward.  “Then I wouldn’t have to keep him from killing himself.”

“You already have to do that,” Shira countered, polishing a flat rock and making to take aim.  Flora sighed.

“Yeah, good point.”  She grabbed the cider as it slipped from Jacques’ hand, nestling it into the sand as she took his head and placed it on her shoulder.  His arms free, Jacques took the opportunity to cuddle.

Shira, briefly distracted from her rock-skipping, took the opportunity to mock.  “If you two aren’t the cutest damn couple I’ve ever seen -”

“Shut up,” Flora bit out, the blush of her pale cheeks incredibly visible, even by the dim light of the fire.  “I’m cold, and I need to keep him occupied.”

Smirking, Shira turned back towards the water.  “What kind of occupied?”

The second the stone left her hand to fly over the waves, she felt a shower of sand rain down upon her, creeping into her hair, her shirt, and her pants.  “Hey!” She squealed, whirling back around. Flora simply sat and waved, her grin a little too self-satisfied. Shira grumbled, looking back to her rock just as it finished its fifteenth skip, and fell into the water with a  _ plop! _

A gust of wind blew right through her, leaving her shivering, and she decided to abandon her activity in favor of warmth.  Out of guilt, she went and grabbed Niri first, dragging her boss back with her as the woman grumbled incoherently.

When she finally knelt by the fire, Niri snoring inches away, Flora raised a brow.  “You’re getting soft in your old age,” she remarked. Shira snorted.

“Just making sure my source of income doesn’t lose her fingers because of a drunken stupor,” she replied, rubbing her hands together.

Flora shrugged, disbelieving, but Shira didn’t care.  All she wanted right now was to get warm.

They sat in amicable silence for a while, the only noises being the wind, the waves, and the occasional spout of unintelligible babble.  They had met up on the beach around seven o’clock, and they’d had such a good time that Shira had forgotten she’d ever wanted to ask them anything.  But now, she remembered.

“Flora?”

“Mhm?”

She toyed with the edge of her jeans.  “You know how I said I’ve been thinking about joining the marines?”

Her best friend immediately frowned.  “Yeah, why?”

“Well…” she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth.  “I wanted to ask what you think I should do.”

Flora dropped her frown in favor of a more surprised expression.  “Why would you ask me?”

Shira shrugged, tilting her head from side to side.  “Because I don’t really know if I want to do it or not.”

“How could you not know if you want it or not?”

She groaned.  “That’s what  _ Jon  _ said.”  She planted her hands in the sand, leaning back and looking at the stars.  “It’s because I don’t want to be a marine, I just want to get off this island.  So I don’t really know if it’s worth it.”

Flora gave her a sad look.  It made her seem younger, somehow.  “But why would you want to leave, when we’re here?”

Shira locked onto her friend so fast, she almost gave herself whiplash.  “It’s not you guys! I would never leave because of you.”

“But what’s so bad about this place that you would be willing to leave us behind?”  She pushed, disturbing Jacques slightly as she sat up.

Flora made a guttural noise in the back of her throat, trying to convey her dismay.  “It’s not that it’s so bad, it’s…” she had to stop, and try to figure out how to phrase what she felt.  “Have you ever felt,” she decided on, “like you’re tired of living?”

“Wait - wait, you mean like, you want to die?!”  Flora interjected, suddenly terrified.

“No, no, no,” Shira assured her.  “Just… bored, I guess, of life. I’m tired of living.  I feel unfulfilled in the worst way, like nothing I do can get rid of this.”  She stared into the embers of the campfire. “Apathetic towards myself, almost.”

“Oh,” Flora said, not scared or sad anymore.  “Well, I guess there’s only one thing you can do.”

Now it was Shira’s turn to be shocked.  “Huh? What?”

“Get the heck off this island,” she stated, point-blank.

Shira blinked.  “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Flora continued.  “Be a marine, be a pirate, smuggle yourself onto a ship, I don’t care.  Because I’ve never felt like that before, but it sounds like shit.”

“Flora!”  Shira gasped.

“What?”

“Language.”  The girl rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“Shira, if you leave, I’m gonna miss you.  And I can’t say whether being a marine specifically is the best thing for you.  But if this is what’s going to make you happy, then you need to go for it.” With that, she stood up, allowing Jacques (who had long since fallen asleep) to fall by the wayside.  “Now help me put out the fire and get these jerks home. I want to go to bed.”

Shira grimaced.  “Ugh. Can’t we just leave them here?”

“Not if you want to get paid.”

“Fuck.”

“Language!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH TO GET HERE

**Saturday, February 19, 1523**

**9:04 PM**

**1 Hour Before the Attack**

 

“Okay, guys, that’s enough for today,” Arthur said, taking off his work gloves and wiping the sweat from his brow.  “Let’s head inside, I’ll get started on dinner.”

Shira, Jon and their father had been working outside for most of the day, and had decided to finish it off by stacking wood next to the back door for the fireplace.  They’d been working by lantern light for maybe five hours, and all were exhausted.

“Thank god,” Shira heaved, bending over and supporting herself with her hands on her knees.  “I thought it’d never be over.”

“Woulda been over faster if you worked more than you talked,” Jon snarked.

“Even faster if you didn’t stall between every log,” she returned.

They continued to banter on their way inside, Arthur silently shaking his head as they walked.  While Jon and Shira went to their rooms to clean up, he headed to the kitchen.

“I started the roast around two, so dinner should be ready in twenty,” he called as they went upstairs.

“Noted!”

 

**9:34 PM**

**30 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“The roast is great, Dad,” Jon complimented after five minutes of satisfied chewing.

Shira nodded in agreement.  “Definitely. I mean, one of your best.”

Arthur smiled.  “Thank you very much.”

They quickly fell back into silence as they continued to eat.

_ Okay, you can do this. _

_ Everything will be fine, just work up the courage and tell him. _

_ Even if he doesn’t agree, it’s gonna be okay. _

_ But what if it’s not? _

_ Shut up, we’re doing this. _

_ But it’s scary… _

_ Shut it! _

_ Okay, okay, okay.  Gotta tell him. _

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yes, Shira?”  He replied, looking up.

“I have something  I want to tell you.”

  
  


**9:54 PM**

**10 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“And what do you expect, huh?!” Arthur shouted, banging the pots and pans around in the sink lieu of actually washing them.  “You go off and enlist, and you go on adventures and ride off into the sunset?” He slammed a glass down particularly violently, and it shattered in his hand.  “You could die out there!”

“I could die here!”  Shira countered, sliding the shards into the garbage can next to the counter.  “I could die at any time! All of us could die at any time!” she continued, sweeping her arm through the air, past her father, her brother (who was sitting and eating, trying to make himself look smaller), and herself.  “I’d rather die actually doing something with my life, than sitting on my ass for another twenty five years, doing the same thing every goddamn day!”

 

**9:59 PM**

**5 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“Of course I don’t want to watch you waste away here!  You think I like knowing that you could be doing so much more with your life?!”  He slapped a rag onto the counter, and furiously wiped it down. “But I’d rather have you safe!”

“And what about me, Dad?!” She stormed into the living room (which Jon had escaped to earlier), and heard the rag drop into the sink as he made to follow.  “What about what I want? What if I don’t care about being safe anymore, when I’m twenty-eight years old, and the farthest from home I’ve ever been is the other side of the island!”  Shira screamed, pointing wildly out the window.

 

**9:01 PM**

**3 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“You’re not going, and that is final!”

She laughed.  “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”

“I’ll have you arrested, if that’s what it takes!”  Their noses were about an inch apart, their faces tomato red.  “I’ll do what is necessary to keep you alive!”

 

**9:02 PM**

**2 Minutes Before the Attack**

 

“That’s the thing, Dad - I’m not alive.”  She turned on her heel and walked away, running her hands through her hair, trying to collect herself.  “At least, I certainly don’t feel like it.”

He scoffed.  “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I don’t want to just exist anymore, Dad!”  She turned back around to look him in the eye.  “I want to live!”

 

**9:03 PM**

**1 Minute Before the Attack**

 

Jon sighed, and decided to intervene.  “Look, guys, if you’d just calm down, I’m sure we can come to a rational conclusion -”

“We’ll come to a rational conclusion,” Arthur interrupted, “when she finally listens to reason!”

“Oh, and what reason would you be referring to?”

 

**30 Seconds Before the Attack**

 

“You can’t just make huge decisions like that on a whim!”

“How do you know it was on a whim?!  You really think you’re the first person I told?  I’ve been thinking about this for months!”

 

**15 Seconds**

 

“That doesn’t matter, you’re not mature enough to make this decision on your own!”

“How many times do I have to remind you that I’ve been an adult for ten years?!”

 

**10 Seconds**

 

“As many times as it takes for you to realize age doesn’t equal wisdom!”

“Oh, how  _ wise  _ of you.”

 

**5**

 

“You can’t even argue without insulting me!”

 

**4**

 

“Where do you think I got it from?”

 

**3**

“Guys, please -”

 

**2**

 

“No!  We’re not -”

 

**1**

 

“- DONE YET!”

 

**_Boom._ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayyyyyyy finally people are getting hurt

All three of them froze.  “The fuck was that?” Jon whispered, as two more explosions followed after.   **_Boom.  Boom._ **But Shira already knew what was going on.  She locked eyes with her father.

“They’re here.”

“Get your weapons,” Arthur ordered, running to his room to grab his pistol.  “Grab your guns, then your knives, then your shoes, then your coats. Grab food and water if there’s time.  If you want any keepsakes, get them last!” he called, digging through his closet. “Survival first!”

Jon and Shira already started moving halfway through his command.

She dashed to her bedroom, getting her pistols from under her bed and holstering them, then sheathing her knives on her thighs.  She strapped herself into her Moth Bearskin boots and winter jacket, and snatched a backpack with emergency food, water, and ammo, as well as a few important memories she’d tucked away.  Double checking to make sure everything was there, she then headed right back down the stairs.

Arthur was already set to go, his own bag slung over his shoulder.  Jon followed her down, and their father looked them over, seeming satisfied with what he saw.

“Jon, you have the Baby Den Den Mushi?”  He nodded. “Good. We’re heading to the town to help with defense.  This is your first pirate attack, so I need you to promise me something.  From here on out, you will heed every order I give you.” The siblings nodded in unison.  “Thank you.

“Now, if the situation goes south - if at any point, it looks like we’re losing - I want you two to take as many survivors as you can to the sanctuary at Black Mountain.  It’s inside the base, and heavily reinforced - and as long as no one blabs to the enemy about the hidden path, they’ll have to fight their way through Moth Bear territory if they even want to get close.  If you go, I’ll follow after. Now, are you ready?” Again, they nodded. Arthur returned it. “Let’s go.”

They made their way to the town at a brisk pace, and with every step, Shira’s anxiety grew.   _Oh god, I knew it, I knew they were coming but no one listened, it’s my fault, I didn’t try hard enough, none of them prepared for an attack, they’re going to die -_

A flood of images drowned her mind, images of the town destroyed, her friends and family dead, a jolly roger waving in the wind.  It didn’t stop all the way to the town square - and by then, they weren’t necessary, because the real thing was worse.

It was already a warzone when they arrived - a sea of fighting, bullets and knives and blood flying through the air.  She could barely tell the difference between the invaders and the people she’d known her entire life - but there was difference enough for her to blow the jackasses away.

Lifting her pistol, Shira took aim, and fired, Jon doing the same to her left.  Two pirates fell dead with holes in their chests, and ten more took notice of the newcomers.  Shira braced herself, but before anything else could happen, Arthur dove into the fray with his sword held high, cutting down several men before she could blink.  “Defend the town, and stay alive!” he shouted, before disappearing into the crowd.

Seeing no other way forward, she and Jon followed after.

It was strange, but from the moment the first bullet left the chamber of her gun, Shira had slowly started to go numb.  The fear, the despair, the rage, slowly started to melt away, the process only speeding up with each new opponent. She was nowhere near as skilled her her father, or even her brother; not as nimble, not as strong.  But in the mess of people that surrounded her, fist and elbows and blades narrowly missing her every second, she felt like the only person thinking clearly. Smoothly, emotionlessly, she snuck up behind a masked pirate attacking a teenage boy, and slit his throat, the blood spraying onto his victim - now filthy, but alive.

Barely looking at him, she moved on, poking a short woman in the eye, leaving her distracted.  This left her free to punch her in the nose, causing her eyes to water, so she couldn’t see Shira step to the side, and forcefully shove her blade into the pirate’s cervical spine.  Death was instantaneous.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her brother, and several of the stronger townspeople, sending attacker after attacker to meet their maker.  And for a good twenty minutes, it seemed like they would win - a win paid with many casualties, but a win nonetheless.

Three things then occurred in very quick succession.  The first was that Shira realized they had finally pushed the enemy as far back as the café.

The door had been broken down, the windows shattered, the roof caved in.  Weight-bearing beams had been snapped in half, causing the building to fall in on itself.  And, in the middle of the building, Shira saw Niri. Arm broken, leg shattered, eyes open, blank, and dead; crushed by the wood and stone.  The calm state she’d sunk into was immediately ripped away.

“NIRI!”  She tried to get over there, climbing over the dead, dodging between swords, ducking under punches.  “NO!”

The second thing was that, due to her distraction, Shira didn’t see a pirate aiming a pistol her way.  At the last second, she heard the bang, and tried to avoid it - but it hit her in the shoulder despite her efforts.  She fell to the ground, clutching the wound, watching the blood flow through her fingers. The pain hadn’t hit yet due to the shock, but it would nail her any second now.

The third and final happening was a thundering crash as a ten-foot frog landed on top of the already-demolished café.

Lying in the rubble, she tried to call out again.  “Niri…” But she couldn’t bring it to a volume above a whisper.

The townspeople were so startled that for a moment, they simply stopped fighting.  The pirates, however, were more riled up than ever. In fact, they began to cheer.

“Go Greenie!”

“First Mate Greenie!”

“Go get ‘em!”

Her right arm still holding her wound, Shira used her left to prop herself up, and get a better view of the creature.  Big, fat, and bright green, it certainly seemed to be just a supersize of a normal frog. But there was a strange intelligence in its eyes.

The realization didn’t take long to come to her.  “Devil Fruit User.”

Thankfully, it didn’t hear her.  Rather, it directed its gaze to the villagers.  “I am Greenie, first mate to Jones Blu, captain of the Red Knee Pirates.  Surrender now, and we will not do any further harm to you.”

“Oh, please, Greenie, don’t bother lying to them,” a woman’s amused voice arose from one of the buildings.  There was a sound of boots crunching over the debris, and the speaker came up next to Greenie. “It’s patronizing.  We all know that we can’t let them tell anyone what happened here.”

Greenie furrowed his brow, as much as a frog could hope to do so.  “Jones, this isn’t some pirate crew. Are you seriously saying you want to kill everyone on this island?”

The captain rolled her eyes.  “Well, duh. Weren’t you the one worried about the marines finding us out?”

Six feet tall, with long blond hair and clear blue eyes, and wearing a long overcoat and combat boots, Jones certainly cut an intimidating figure as she absentmindedly flipped a throwing knife in her palm.  She started to flip it faster and faster as she and her first mate began to devolve into an actual argument.

Shira didn’t have time to study her any further, though, before Jon suddenly appeared at her side.  “Shira, we need to go,” he breathed into her ear. “Most of us have phased out of the crowd by now, and are heading to the mountain.  They don’t seem to have realized that only pirates are left - we have to be gone by the time it hits them.”

She nodded, and they slowly crept away between the destroyed buildings, as Blu and Greenie continued to yell at each other.

“We’re assassins, Greenie!  It’s what we’ve always done!”

“No, we _were_ assassins.  We don’t have to murder everyone in cold blood!”

Even their crew began to notice, as when Shira turned her head to make sure they weren’t being followed, the pirates were looking around, confused.  One tried to get the attention of his superiors, and was utterly ignored. Even as they left the actual town itself, it was still easy to discern what Jones and Greenie were yelling about, because they just kept getting louder.

Once they reached the edge of the forest, they found the townspeople waiting for them; injured, beat up, but relatively okay.  Shira gave a sigh of relief when she spotted Flora in the group, but winced when she thought about Niri.

“Alright,” Jon said, just loud enough that everyone could hear him, “we’re going to the sanctuary.  Is everyone ready? We’re going to have to hunker down for a while.”

A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd, and he nodded.  “Good. Let’s go.” Then he leaned over, and gently wrapped his arm around Shira.  “First thing we’re doing once we’re safe is getting rid of the bullet in your shoulder.”

She glanced over at the wound, and noticed that it wasn’t bleeding quite as fast.  “Hurts like a motherfucker,” she ground out. “Might just pass out when we step through the door.”

Very slowly, the group began to creep through the woods towards the secret pathway.  The silence was deafening; even the Moth Bears, who became more active as spring grew closer, were suspiciously quiet.  Shira could hear every step someone took, and flinched whenever someone even coughed. But then she realized something.

“Jon?” she said, slowing down.  “Why can’t I hear shouting anymore?”

“Oh, someone thinks she’s clever,”  emerged a snide voice from the darkness, accompanied by a blade that went flying through Shira’s left palm.  She screamed in agony, and let go of her shoulder so she could try and rip it from her hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the voice said again.  Captain Jones stepped out from behind a tree, along with a scarred bald man, and the rest of her crew.  “If you pull it out now, it might just get worse. Better leave that to a doctor… that is, if you can make it to one.”

Shira snarled in pain and anger, trying to distract the pirate as she saw Jon silently urge the rest of the villagers to keep moving forward.  Better if most of them survive than none at all.

“What is your goal here, exactly?”  Jon asked, edging himself slightly in front of his sister.  “You invade a defenseless town, murder everyone, and leave? What’s the point?”

Jones laughed.  “Oh, defenseless, are we?  If I recall, you were winning, until Greenie and I showed up,” she said, walking forward in tandem with the scarred man.  “And really, the goal isn’t to kill all of you. We’re here for money and supplies. We just need to make sure that the marines aren’t on our tail by the time we leave.”

“And we’re here to make sure you don’t get that far,” Shira countered, pulling out her pistol and training it on the woman’s head.  She only earned herself more laughter.

“What’re you going to do?  Bleed to death?” Jones shook her head, and flicked her wrist at her companion.  The man nodded, and before Shira could blink, an enormous tongue shot out of the man’s mouth.  In mere seconds, it divested her and Jon of all of their weapons, and left them covered in saliva.

Shira cringed, and tried to shake the slime off her hand, to no avail.  “Disgusting.”

Her brother, however, decided to act.  Out of nowhere, he tried to charge Jones.  “Run!” he shouted to his sister, hoping to give her time to escape.  But the pirate captain was far more experienced in combat. Seconds before he would hit her, she dodged to the side, and threw out her arm, clotheslining him.  Disoriented, he tried to attack again, but she nailed him with a powerful uppercut, sending him to the forest floor.

“Jon!”  Shira cried out.  Uncaring of her injuries she tried to run towards the fight; but the scarred man, who she now recognized as the Devil Fruit User from earlier, grabbed her and threw her to the ground, holding her in place with his foot on her back.  She could only watch as Jones kicked her brother over onto his stomach.

The captain looked around a bit, then found a sizable rock.  Then, kneeling down, she placed it in front of Jon’s face. “Bite on it.”  He shook his head. Jones sighed, irritated, then motioned again to Greenie, who pulled out Shira’s own pistol and pointed it at her eye.  “Bite on the rock, or we blow your sister’s brains out,” she explained softly.

Jon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened wide, biting down on the rock.  “There’s a good boy.” Jones stood back up, and without warning, stomped down hard on the back of his head.

“JONNY!” Shira wailed, trying to get up from under Greenie’s foot, struggling pointlessly.  The _crack_ her brother’s jaw made as it broke was the last thing she heard.  The only thing that echoed in her ears now was silence. She couldn’t even hear herself screaming her brother’s name.  “JONNY!” She struggled in vain. “JONNY! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!” But he didn’t respond.

She watched the footsteps of Captain Jones as the vile woman made her way over, brushing her first mate to the side.  She grabbed Shira by the chin, and lifted her halfway off the ground. Looking into her eyes, Shira could feel the rage and hate boiling up from within, and as the captain spoke, suddenly she could hear again.  “We call ourselves the Red Knee Pirates. Do you want to know why?” she asked, leaning over to whisper into Shira’s ear. “Because when we’re done with you and your filthy island, we’ll be up to our knees in blood.”

And magically, the anger melted away.  Unbidden, Shira began to laugh into the woman’s face, taking pleasure in her growing confusion.  “You’re… pathetic,” she coughed out. “You really think… you’re so cool?” As Jones’ eyes filled with fury, she only laughed harder, each choking rasp forcing its way through.  “You couldn’t hold a candle to the Worst Generation, let alone someone like…” she searched her brain for an example. “...Like Crocodile.”

Shira watched as her expression twisted with mad ferocity, and barely registered someone in her crew commenting, “Oh fuck.”  And for some reason, she found it in herself to laugh again, utterly unafraid of anything more this woman could put her through.

“Did I strike a nerve?  What, did he kick your ass one time?  Pitiful.”

Jones decided that the best way to deal with her anger issues was to throw Shira into a tree.  Her head snapped back against the bark, giving her an instant migraine. Jones stalked after her prey, grabbing her by the neck this time, and pinned her against the bark.  “How dare you,” the woman growled. “Crocodile is nothing to me! I defeated him! I sent him crying with his tail between his legs!”

By now, Shira was full-on cackling.  “Now it sounds like he dumped you,” she snarked, gasping for air.  “What, did you have a one night stand and think you were special? This just keeps getting better.”

Jones hauled off and sucker punched her in the gut.  “You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?” She threw her again, this time onto the body of her brother.  Her ears ringing, not able to fully open her eyes, Shira watched as the captain pulled out another throwing knife, and took aim.  “Say hi to your brother for me.”

Giving one last snicker, Shira closed her eyes, and passed out before the knife left Jones’ hand.


	6. Chapter 6

When Shira woke, it was in a strange place she’d never seen before, and she was in a great deal of pain.  So, naturally, she woke up cussing.

“Motherfucking son of a bitch,” she groaned.  “Goddamnit. If no one tells me where the hell I am I will stab myself in the fucking gut and hope it kills me, good God.”

“Language.”

“Bite me,” she spat, then it hit her.  “Flora!” She shot up, and immediately regretted it when another wave of pain flowed from her shoulder.  “Fuck!”

“What did I just say?”  her friend joked from the next bed over.

Gripping her bandaged shoulder, Shira looked to the left, and had to hold back a gasp.  She may have almost died, but Flora hadn’t gotten off scot-free either.

“Your eye…”

Under her glasses, Flora’s left eye had been heavily bandaged.  There were stitches across her forehead, and more bandages over her chest and her right thigh.

“Tell me about it,” she commented dryly.  “I’m gonna need an eyepatch _and_ a monocle.  I’ll look ridiculous.”

The mental image forced a chuckle out of Shira.  “I see you’ve had some time to come to terms with this,” she commented.  “How long have you been awake?”

The girl shrugged.  “I never really passed out like you did, though honestly I wish I had.  You’ve been asleep for about two days, though..”

She nodded slowly, trying to process it.  Then she had a thought, and ripped the blanket off of her lap, trying to stand.

“Woah, woah, woah, where are you going?”  Flora, asked, worried.

“Jon!  I have to see Jon!” she exclaimed, trying to stand without falling over.  “Where is he, is he okay?”

“He’s okay, Shira, I swear!” Flora, said, sitting up herself.  “If you sit down and let yourself adjust, I’ll tell you what I can.”

Sighing, Shira, sat back down, secretly relieved that she didn’t have to expend any more energy.  “Thank God. How bad is he?”

“Compared to the state they found him in, he’s doing really well,” Flora assured her, turning to face her friend.  “From what the doctors saw, when she did that thing with the rock she was trying to sever his spine. It was pure luck that it didn’t work.  Something about the terrain and the rock being the wrong size and the angle she hit him at. Either way, he’s alive.”

“That bitch,” Shira snarled.  “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

For once, Flora said nothing about her swearing, only nodding in agreement.  “It did break his jaw, though. They had to wire it shut, and believe me, he’s not happy about it.”

Shira snorted.  “Sounds like Jon.”  Taking advantage of the lull, she looked around the room.  Clearly an infirmary, it was full of injured villagers, all in rows of beds along the walls.  At the far end of the room, she could see a few nurses checking in on some conscious patients.  “I’m assuming this is Black Mountain Sanctuary?”

“Mhm.”  Flora tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and Shira saw a shaved patch with stitches an inch past her hairline.  “It’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I don’t think any living citizen has seen it before.  ‘Cept maybe the mayor.” She scratched her eyebrow, and had another realization.  “Wait, how did I get here? How did Jon get here?” Flora started shifting around like she was uncomfortable, but Shira didn’t notice, and simply pushed on.  “And how did you get so injured, I thought you were with the group that Jon and I helped get through? And come to think of it, where the hell is Jacques?”

Flora swallowed hard, and carefully stood up.  She held out a hand, and Shira took it, using the support to stand up herself.  “Come on, I need to show you something first.”

Flora led her towards the other end of the infirmary, where the nurses were, and pulled one aside to speak with her, so that Shira couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.  The nurse nodded, and walked towards a door she hadn’t previously noticed, with a plaque that read ‘Intensive Care Unit’. She unlocked the door, and pushed it open softly, allowing them to pass through.

“Oh, my God,” Shira gasped.

There were ten beds, but only two were occupied, each holding an unconscious patient.  The first was her brother, who, aside from the bruises, seemed fine. The second was Jacques.  His right arm was almost completely gone, severed just above the elbow. Flora led her to the bed next to him, and they both sat down.

“You may have been out for two days, but from what I’ve heard, he’s genuinely in a coma,” she spoke sadly, brushing his curly bangs from his face.  “They’ve had him on an IV for hydration,” she explained, pointing out the tube sticking out from his arm, “and if he doesn’t wake up by tomorrow they’re giving him a feeding tube.”

Shira turned, and put her hand on her friend’s shoulder.  “Flora,” she spoke seriously, “what happened after I passed out?”

The girl looked down, and twiddled her thumbs.  “Your dad was waiting at the entrance when we all got there, and asked where you two were.  We told him you’d stayed behind to let everyone escape, and he said he was going to rescue you.  We decided to come, too. Shira, there’s something you need to know.”

She leaned in closer when Flora paused.  “What is it?”

Flora took a deep breath.  “Your dad is a Devil Fruit User.”

Shira blinked, not quite understanding at first.  “Wait - what?”

Flora nodded.  “I don’t know what it’s called, but he moves so fast we can’t see him.  He explained that when he’s at his top speed, it’s hard to control himself, or differentiate between friend and foe, so he ran to the back of the pirate crew to take them out from behind.  Jacques and I were supposed to distract Jones and Greenie long enough for him to finish, so he could hold them off while we brought you two back.” She shrugged. “It worked… mostly.

“When Jones was about to shoot you, Jacques came up from behind and put his knife to her throat, and I started shooting at Greenie.  We held them off pretty well for a few minutes, but the moment Greenie had an opening, he transformed, and crushed Jacques’ knife arm beyond repair.”  She nodded towards his missing arm. “That’s why it’s gone. I’m glad you didn’t see it. It was… mangled.” She shivered, and Shira almost said she could stop if she wanted - but she kept going.

“It gave Jones the opportunity to strike back.  She took a pebble, and launched it into my eye so hard, it got stuck inside.  While this was happening, Greenie went in on Jacques, and I was in too much pain to pay attention to exactly what he did, but he’s the reason behind the coma.

“When your dad finished off the rest of their crew, he grabbed all four of us, carried us as far as he could, and then went back to keep them from finding us.”  She finally looked up with tears in her eye. “He hasn’t come back yet. I’m sorry, Shira. We tried, we just -” she hiccuped. “We weren’t strong enough.”

Shira wrapped her arms around her best friend, and let the girl cry into her shoulder, trying to hold back tears herself.  “It’s okay, Flora,” she sniffled. “You did all you could. We’re alive because of you and Jacques, and I’m so grateful. Besides,” she added, making an attempt at a smile, “I trust my dad to take care of himself, especially know that I know he’s a Devil Fruit User.  He’ll be fine.”

They sat there for a while, taking comfort in each other’s company.  Shira gave herself ten minutes to relax, then started asking the important questions.

“Okay, now you need to tell me,” she started, letting go of Flora so she could look at her, “has anyone contacted the marines yet?”

Her friend nodded, wiping away the remnants of her tears.  “Yes, the mayor tried, but they’re too far away. Jon had me call Crawford on the mayor’s Den Den Mushi, to see if he could be of any help, but his superiors told him the same thing.  The fastest anyone could get here is fifteen days, and in all likelihood, it’ll probably be closer to twenty.”

“Has anyone sent a distress signal yet?”

Flora shook her head.  “No, because they’re scared of the warship that was also spotted.  What if they attack us too?”

“That warship is our only chance!”  Shira said, gripping Flora’s shoulders tightly, and wincing at the subsequent pain in her bandaged hand.

Flora frowned.  “But, Shira -”

“Flora,” she interrupted.  “Have the pirates found the entrance yet?”

She shook her head again.  “No. They’ve been looking, but the Moth Bears have been slowing them down.  They’re getting close, though,” she clarified, biting her lip worriedly.

“Flora, you know as well as I do what happens if they get through that door,” Shira warned.  “If we do nothing, we die no matter what. If we manage to contact that warship, at least we can say we tried.  You understand?” Slowly, shakily, her friend nodded. “Good. Where’s the mayor?”

Twenty minutes later, Shira and Flora were sitting in front of Mayor Bayorlish, his Den Den Mushi on the table between them.  “Shira, are you sure this is a good idea?” the old man asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and sweating nervously. “It’s very likely that they’re hostile.”

She glared at him.  “I explained once already.  We have nothing more to lose.  Now shut up and let me send the S.O.S.”

Flora elbowed her in the side, hissing about rudeness and authority figures, but Shira was long past caring.   _If he’s too much of a coward to make the right call, I’ll do it myself._

And so the Den Den Mushi rang.  And rang. And rang. And rang and rang and rang and rang and rang and rang and rang.  It rang for minutes, then hours. At the two hour mark the mayor gave up and left. At the four hour mark they were called for dinner, but Shira refused to leave, so Flora brought some back for her.  At the six hour mark Flora tried to convince her to give it up, saying if no one answered by now, they were never going to. At seven hours she said good night, and went back to the infirmary, leaving Shira to wait on her own as the distress call continued to be ignored.

It was around 2 am, maybe twelve hours in, when Shira had almost fallen asleep, that someone on the other end picked up.  Instantly reviving, she snatched the receiver.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was deep, and for the most part, sounded bored, with slight accents of annoyance.  “I am going to cause you ten times more distress than whatever it is you’re calling about.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyyyyyyyy it's kinda short but here plz accept my offering

Not having expected a response at all, let alone one such as that, Shira couldn’t find any words at first.  “Wha - what?”

“You’ve been pissing me off for about twelve hours, and the only reason I hadn’t picked up yet is because I thought you’d be dead by now,” he deadpanned, “and I am currently trying to sleep.  Stop calling, or I will guarantee that you’ll regret it.” With that, he hung up.

“Wha - hey!” she exclaimed, her mouth catching up to her brain a little too late.  “You piece of - ugh!” Dropping the receiver, she stood, and went back to the infirmary.

“Flora,” she whisper-shouted.  “Hey! Flora! Wake up!”

The girl groaned.  “Someone better be dying.”

“We all might be if you don’t _get up and help me!”_ she finished, accentuating with a slap to the bandages on Flora’s chest.

“Ow!”  She sat up and glared, rubbing the sore spot.  “What is wrong with you?” she breathed.

“I made contact,” Shira responded excitedly.  Flora’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God.”

“I know!  He’s an asshole and hung up, though, so I need to go call again.  Will you go wake up the mayor for me? Since they’re pirates, we might have to make a deal, and I don’t want to do something like that without him there,” she explained.  Flora nodded, and they both set off to their tasks.

Thankfully, this time around, the man answered in less than a minute.  “I’m almost impressed. Not quite, but almost,” he greeted this time around.

“Glad to hear it.  Who is this?” She watched out of the corner of her eye as Flora entered silently with Mayor Bayorlish.

Her ear filled with the sound of mocking laughter.  “I’m not sure you’ll be happy to know once I tell you.”

“That’s kind of you, but I insist.”

“Ladies first.”

“May Shira.  Who are you? Or are you scared you’re not famous enough for me to recognize?”

She already hated his laugh, and she’d only heard it twice.  “Sir Crocodile. Now would you like to tell me why you’re still wasting my time?”

A shiver crawled down her spine.  “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, causing Flora and Bayorlish to give her worried looks.

“Ah, not quite as stupid as I thought.  Stop calling,” he warned, and was likely going to hang up again, but Shira spoke up before he could.

“I want to make a deal with you!” she blurted out.  He was quiet for a moment.

“I doubt you and your tiny island could offer me anything worthwhile,” he mused.  To Shira, what this sounded like was: ‘Convince me.’

“Do you even know why we need your help?” she asked, trying to stall for time.

“Of course,” he said.  “You’re being attacked by the Red Knee Pirates, and want me to destroy them.  Your problem is that I’m being paid to tail them, and killing them would be counterproductive.”

“Shoot,” she muttered.

“Yes, quite the dilemma you have here,” he taunted.  “Even before you offer a reward, you’re going to have to explain why I would go through the effort.”

Frustrated, Shira decided to take a shot in the dark.  “Well, maybe you’re scared. After all, Jones did brag that she kicked your ass.”  Flora immediately started waving her arms frantically, mouthing ‘No!’ and ‘What the heck do you think you’re doing?!’  Bayorlish, on the other hand, just passed out from the fear.

He stopped.  “Oh?” he said.  The difference in tone was like night and day.  Where he’d been bored and curious, now he was dark, and dangerous.  “What else did she say?”

Shira swallowed, scared to go on.  “Well?” he prompted, when she was silent for too long.  She felt forced to comply.

“She - she said she sent you crying with your tail between your legs,” she finished, growing quieter with each passing word, realizing she may have picked the wrong strategy.

“Hm.”  She could feel him thinking.  “I suppose you’ve accomplished something.  I can’t let her live after that.” She almost sighed in relief - then he continued.  “What’s stopping me from waiting until they’re finished?”

She had to think fast.  “How much are you getting paid?”

“The sum of her and her first mate’s bounties,” he replied.

“And that is?”

“30,000,000 Beli.”

Shira almost swooned.  She’d never dreamed of even seeing a fraction of that amount of money.  “We’ll…” she gulped. “We’ll pay 40.”

“60,” he answered, bored again.

“45.”

“60.”

“50?” she tried.

“Miss May, I don’t believe you’re in a position to bargain,” he cautioned.

Time for a last ditch effort.  “Are you willing to try something unconventional?”  Flora, who’d looked worried at the sound of her throwing numbers out, now seemed confused.  As did Crocodile, when he answered again.

“Meaning?”

“After you take care of Jones and the others, you give us two weeks,” she proposed.  “Two weeks to fix up the island, and to try to collect the 60,000,000 in any way we can.  During that time, we give you and your crew the utmost hospitality. By the end of the two weeks, we give you as much of the reward as we can, and if it’s not enough, you name compensation of your choosing, something you know we have to offer from staying here, to make up the difference.”  By this point, Bayorlish had woken up, but upon hearing this, immediately fainted again. Flora looked as though she might follow suit.

The waiting as he thought was torture.  After what seemed like an eternity, he finally spoke again.  “One week.”

Thank God.  “Ten days.”

“Miss May -”

“Please.”

He stopped again.  “Nine days,” he ground out, “and not a minute more.”

“Thank you,” she exhaled, melting into the couch.  “Thank you.”

“Hm.”  He seemed annoyed again.  “You have your deal, May Shira.  We’ll be there by noon tomorrow. Try not to die.  And if you call again, I’ll kill you myself.” One final time, he hung up.

Shira sat frozen for roughly five minutes.  Flora and Bayorlish did the same. Then, very, very carefully, she set down the receiver, and looked up at the two of them.

“We are so fucked.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AT LONG LAST  
> THE MAN OF THE HOUR

When Vince had been invited to join the Gold Tooth Pirates around six months ago, he’d been ecstatic to learn who he’d be working under.  Sir Crocodile, the former Shichibukai! The reputation! The adventure! The glory!

Now he was stuck in a pit of sleep loss and regret.  He knew not the schemes of his captain, but what he did know was that if there was a change of plan, Crocodile had no qualms about waking him up at any hour so they could get moving.  Tonight was no exception.

“Vince,” a voice said from overhead, “get up.”

“Eh,” he spoke into his pillow, “I don’t feel like it.”

Suddenly, his blanket was ripped off of him, and he shivered.  “Boss needs to speak with you.”

He took a deep breath, and then let out a long, lasting groan.  He looked up to find Daz Bones staring down at him. “What time is it?”

“Approximately 2:15.  Put some clothes on and get moving.”

Vince blinked at him, bleary-eyed, then put his head back down.  “Five more minutes.”

Nothing happened for maybe half a minute, and he was hopeful that maybe his request had been granted.  Then Daz Bones pushed him off of his bed, and he landed hard on the cold, miserable wood floor. Rubbing his shoulder, he glared at the first mate.  “Words cannot describe the depths of my hatred for you.”

“Good to know I’m doing my job,” the man replied, opening the door.  “He’s expecting you in ten minutes. Move it.” He exited, and the door swung shut.

Vince looked despairingly at the ceiling.  “Fuck this job.”

It took him five minutes to find his motivation, and four to get dressed.  By the time he was knocking on the boss’s cabin door, it was ten minutes on the dot.

“Enter.”  He turned the knob, and walked inside.

Crocodile slumped in his leather chair, legs crossed, his hook almost glowing in the candlelight.  Despite the hour, he was dressed in his usual finery, rings on his fingers, coat draped on his shoulders, and puffing on one of his ever-present cigars.

“You called for me, Boss?” he asked, messing with his cufflinks.

Crocodile sucked in, held for a moment, then exhaled, allowing the smoke to cloud around his face.  “We need to be docked at Narvienne in nine hours.”

Vince did a double-take.  “Excuse me?”

Even through the smoke, Vince could see the glint in his captain’s eyes.  “Did I stutter?”

“No, sir, of course not,” he backpedaled, “I just thought we were only tailing them?”

“Change of plans,” he elaborated simply, allowing more smoke to escape on the words.  “We’re taking them out. Wake up some of the others. Make sure we’re there by 11:30.”

Vince nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

Crocodile waved him away.  “You’re dismissed.”

As fast as he could without being rude, he left the room.  Speaking one on one with the Boss always put him on edge, especially in his personal cabin.  But now it was over, and he had a job to do.

He woke up the most competent crew members, and explained to each one what Crocodile had told him.  “I want this boat ready to sail in an hour,” he finished with. “Don’t disappoint me.” But they knew what he was really saying.  ‘Don’t disappoint the Boss.’

They were ready to set sail in forty-five minutes.

 

**_*****_ **

 

“Wow, Jon, I’ve never seen you so quiet.  What’s the matter?”

Shira’s brother stared her down with murder in his eyes.  She had to hold back a giggle. “What, do you have a frog in your throat?”  His glare became more severe. “You seem so perturbed.”

Jon lifted his arm, appearing to exert quite a bit of effort to do so.  He crooked a finger, urging her to come closer. Still smiling, she brought her ear closer to his face, thinking maybe he would try and reprimand her, even through the wired jaw.  Instead, he used his lifted arm to flick her in the eye. “Motherfucker!”

He laughed, as much as he could laugh without moving his teeth.

Suddenly, the door to the Intensive Care Unit flew open, and Flora burst in, severely out of breath.  “Shira! Jon!”

Shira shot out of her chair.  “What is it, what’s going on?!”

“They found the door,” she said, looking grim.  Shira nodded, and turned to Jon.

“I have to go.  Hopefully…” she trailed off.

“We’ll be back,” Flora promised.  It was painfully obvious that he didn’t believe her, but they had to leave.  With a silent goodbye, they closed the door, and a nurse locked it behind them, then pushing a privacy curtain in front of it.  Meanwhile, Flora grabbed Shira’s right hand, and began dragging her away.

“Where are the weapons?” Shira panted, having difficulty with all the physical activity in combination with her injuries.

“They have a room where they dropped all of them off after we got here,” she explained as they ran.  “Everyone else is already arming up and heading for the entrance. It’s a reinforced steel door inside the mountain, so that frog guy won’t be able to fully transform to take it down.”  They found the room fairly quickly - there were still a few stragglers inside. Shira wished she could pick up something more powerful than a pistol, but her shoulder wouldn’t be able to handle it.  “Still, from what I’ve heard, it should only hold for a half hour or so.”

“What time is it now?”  Shira asked, trying to find more ammunition.

Flora was already loading her guns.  “10:20, I think?”

Pistols in her holsters and ammo in her pockets, she did a last minute check for any decent daggers.  “So at the very least, we have to hold them off for over an hour.”

“No one ever said this was going to be easy,” Flora said, “but one advantage we have this time is that we can bottleneck the entrance.  Of course, Jones probably realized this, so they’ll send the grunts in first, but we should still be able to take out a fair number before she steps in.”

Shira looked over herself, then her friend.  “You ready to maybe die?”

“No better time,” she shrugged.  Together, they left the room, and got ready for a fight.

And, honestly, they got pretty lucky.  Flora estimated half an hour; the door held for about forty-five minutes of banging, gunshots, and explosions.  At 11:05, mangled and burnt, the iron door softly swung open. Every barrel in the room was pointed at the first person to walk through the door, ready to shoot, until -

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!”

Shira barely recognized her own voice shouting the command,  far too distracted by the sight of her father. Covered in bruises, scratches and blood, both his arms dislocated and several fingers broken, she could tell that he was hardly capable of holding up his own head.  She had a feeling that the closer she got, the worse he’d look.

“DAD, RUN!” she shouted again.  “GET AWAY FROM THEM!”

Flora put a hand on her shoulder.  “It’s no use, don’t you see the handcuffs?”  Shira looked at her father’s wrists, which appeared to be wrapped in stone.  “It must be Seastone. It nullifies Devil Fruit powers.”

“Nice try, girlie!” one of the pirates cackled.  “He ain’t going anywhere, ‘least not like this. You think we’re dumb enough to enter a room of armed people without a bargaining chip?”

“What are you bargaining for?”  Mayor Bayorlish asked from the back.

The pirates laughed again.  “Why, safe passage into the room, of course!”

“We can’t do that,” the mayor cried.  “You’ll kill us all, regardless!”

“Well, I guess you have a tough decision to make.  Gotta warn you, though,” he taunted, “you should make that decision fast.  You have five minutes, or we kill him anyway.”

Shira wasn’t really paying attention past that point.  She was more occupied with the fact that she could see her dad’s hands moving.  She looked up, and he made eye contact, starting to mouth something, as well. She squinted, and tried to make it out.

_ Wait… stall,  _ he mouthed, holding up four fingers on his right hand, the the other palm up in a ‘stop’ signal.   _ Then…  _ he made a finger gun, and wiggled his left shoulder.

“Flora,” she whispered out the side of her mouth, grabbing her friend’s attention.  “My dad wants us to stall them for the full five minutes. Go tell the mayor to keep them talking, don’t give in.”

“What happens after we stall them, though?”  she asked.

“You let me worry about that.  Just go! Before he agrees to anything!”  She nudged her, and Flora went, throwing her a look over her shoulder as she left.

Shira readied herself, her pistol armed and dangerous, and waited for the right moment as Mayor Bayorlish kept pretending to bargain.  Turns out she didn’t have to keep track, though - the pirates started counting down for her when it got close.

“10!”  They began.

“Time’s almost up, Mr. Mayor,” the one hiding behind her dad shouting.  “What’s it gonna be?”

“9!”

“8!”

“7!”  Shira looked at her father, and he subtly nodded.

“6!”

“5!”

“Oh, well,” the pirate shouted, “Too bad!”

“4!”  She lifted her gun, and aimed.

“3!”

“2!”  Shira took the shot.

“1!”  They finished as her father jerked violently.  The bullet still clipped him in the shoulder, but he dodged just enough for it to hit the pirate in the head.  Both of them dropped to the ground.

“FIRE AT WILL!”  She screamed, and the air filled with a mist of bullets and blood.

 

**_*****_ **

 

“Boss?”  Vince asked, knocking on the door and opening it slightly.  “The scouts just got back from the town. A small portion of it’s destroyed, and they can’t find anyone anywhere, expect for a few bodies.  Should we keep looking?”

He heard nothing for a few moments, then footsteps.  He stepped back from the door just before it swung open completely.  Sir Crocodile stood beyond the doorway, just as put together as he’d been at 2am, which Vince found to be more than a little unfair.

“Is the town the only place you searched?” he asked, his deep voice ringing throughout the ship, unintentionally silencing the crew.

Vince nodded, aware of the eyes pointed their way.  “Yes, sir. We were going to check the mountain next.  One of the men found records of a sanctuary of sorts inside of it.  They may have fled there.”

He backed up again as his captain ducked under the doorway and stepped into the sun.  When he got the ship, he had it modified, but all 8’3” of him still couldn’t totally fit.   _ No human should be that tall,  _ Vince thought enviously, frustrated with his own height of 5’10”.  

“Then that’s our destination,”  Crocodile decreed. He looked on to the rest of the ship, who had already been listening with rapt attention.  “Half of you are to remain behind. Half of that group guards our ship, the other half will loot theirs,” he ordered, pointing to the tiny merchant ship and its miserable pirate flag.  “The remaining half of the crew comes with me to the mountain. You have one minute to decide who’s going where. After that, I choose for you.”

Vince watched as the crew devolved into a mini-brawl for 30 seconds, then spent the other 30 divvying up responsibilities.  Over the course of his time here, he’d been studying how the Boss operated. For anything even slightly important or difficult, he took his time strategizing, making sure everything was perfect.  These Red Knee Pirates were either weak, inconsequential, or some unfortunate combination of the two.

Crocodile looked down at him.  “Did those records say where the entrance is?”

Vince shook his head.  “They were careful to avoid mentioning that, but one did talk about a secret path through the forest.  We may still have to do some looking for the door, but if we use the path it’ll be much faster.”

“Good,” he responded, putting out the butt of his cigar in the sand of his palm and tossing it in a nearby bucket.  He pulled out another, bit off the cap, and somehow, Daz Bones magically appeared to light it for him. “Let’s go see if this is worthwhile.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOU  
> HOPE YOU LIKE IT

It was 11:47 when they’d taken down enough pirates for Jones and Greenie to show their faces.

Greenie entered first, and they tried to take him out before he transformed, but he was too fast.  He jumped into the air, and when he landed with a  **_boom,_ ** he was an enormous frog once more.  With one sweep of his disgusting tongue, he took down every combatant in a ten-foot radius, regardless of friend or foe.

“You know,” Jones said, cringing as she stepped in some saliva, “I have to hand it to you guys.  We severely underestimated you.” She pulled out a throwing knife, and sent it flying into a villager’s neck.  “Still not going to let you live, but. I’m impressed anyway.”

Shira wanted to take one of them out, but once she’d run out of bullets a little while ago, she’d started guarding her father using the sword of a fallen pirate.  The same misfortune had befallen most of the others - almost everyone in the room had been left to their blades, which is probably why Jones felt safe making an appearance.

Flora had apparently come to the same conclusion, because after she’d ended another opponent with a thrust to the belly, she faced Jones.  “You fucking coward,” she spat. The captain’s eyes darkened.

“I remember you,” she said, continuing to walk forward as Greenie swept any potential attackers out of her way.  “How’s your eye? Must be painful.”

“It’ll hurt less than your pride will once Crocodile gets here,” Shira jumped in, stepping closer to Flora and hoping she caught their attention enough that they didn’t notice her father.

Jones turned on her heel and eyed her, looking just as full of rage as she had when Shira had accidentally hit the nail on the head the night of the attack.  “Excuse me?”

“Yep,” she confirmed, continuing to walk closer to Flora.  “That other ship that’s in the area? It’s his warship. We made a deal with him last night.  He should be here any second.”

Jones laughed, but it was easy to tell from the cracking in her voice that she was a little nervous.  “Oh, you got me for a second. You just happened to get lucky when I was kicking your ass, and you think it’ll work again.  Nice try.”

“But, Captain,” Greenie spoke, seeming concerned, “I saw some of their newspapers.  There is a warship in the area. What if they’re not lying? We should be cautious.”

Jones laughed even harder, sounding more maniacal with every second.  “Are you kidding? You really believe this shit? What are the odds that that failure is all the way out here?  This isn’t real.”

“Oh, it’s real, alright,” Flora joined in.  “He was paid to follow you. Wanna know how Shira convinced him to kill you instead?”

Jones stopped laughing for a moment, and wiped a tear from her eye.  “Oh, do tell.”

“I just had to tell him what you said about him,” Shira shrugged, finally standing right next to her friend.  “He’s not too happy with your bragging, Jones. What did he do to you that you’re willing to risk lying about a former Shichibukai?”   _ Ten more minutes.  He said noon. Just ten more minutes and it’ll be okay. _

“Who said I was lying?”  Jones shouted, suddenly angry again.

Shira took a small step forward.  “C’mon, you really didn’t expect me to believe you?”  She threw her arms out to indicate the entire room. “If you were strong enough to fight him for longer than three minutes, you wouldn’t be so scared of the marines that you’d spend three days trying to murder an entire village.”  Ignoring Flora trying to drag her back, she stepped forward again. “Any counterpoints?”

Her counterpoint was to tackle Shira to the ground, and try to choke her out.

While she could still speak, Shira continued to mock her.  “Nice counterpoint, well-thought out,” she wheezed. “Definitely makes me think you’re smart enough to take down a strategist like Crocodile.”

“I’m on a different level than him!”  Jones snarled.

Shira nodded as best as she could.  “Yeah, a much lower level.”  _ Just a little longer, come on. _

“He couldn’t hold a candle to me!”

She was losing air by the second.  “He doesn’t have anything to prove.  You, on the other hand…”

“I defeated him easily!”

Shira discovered that snorting sounds really weird when someone is suffocating you.  “Look, bitch, I doubt you can use Haki. There’s no fucking way. Admit it.”

“It took me five seconds!” Jones screamed, spittle flying into Shira’s face as she finally started to blackout.  “I beat him into a pulp! It was humiliating for him! Even Strawhat didn’t kick his ass as hard as I did!”

“Strange,” a voice interjected, “it seems I would remember if something like that ever happened.”

Shira didn’t think she’d enjoyed anything more than she enjoyed watching the blood drain from Jones’ face.  The captain let her go, and stood to face the speaker, leaving Shira free to cough the air back into her lungs.

“I knew I’d met you before,” he commented, puffing on his cigar, “but I hadn’t cared enough to remember until now.  The Billions all looked the same to me, anyway.”

Up until now, Shira had only ever seen Crocodile’s Wanted Poster once, a long time ago, and that was with the bounty from before he was a Shichibukai.  Through this, she did have a fairly accurate mental image of him, but it was nothing compared to the real thing. Especially since most Wanted Posters don’t convey size.

Subconsciously, she knew there were larger people in the world, but Sir Crocodile was easily the tallest person she’d ever fucking seen.  He dwarfed Jones by about two feet, and was almost as tall as the frog. If she were standing, she’d have to actually crane her neck to look at him.  The intimidation factor was only doubled by the scar stretching across his face, as well as the look in his eyes that said, ‘I don’t think all of you are beneath me, I know it.’

And he was the most well-dressed person she’d ever seen, too.  Slacks, dress shoes, a black button-down and vest, a green fur coat, a fucking cravat, and a ring on almost every finger.  And that was ignoring the massive golden hook on his left arm.

All in all, looking between the two captains, she could safely say she knew which one would walk away from this encounter.

It looked as though Greenie would try to intervene, but in less time than it took for Crocodile to puff on his cigar, a tall man in a suit appeared, stopping the frog in his tracks.  “Let’s leave captains to captains and first mates to first mates, shall we?” he spoke, in a voice almost as deep as Crocodile’s. Shira’s eyes widened in shock when he lifted his arm, and it turned into a blade.  “You’ll find more than enough challenge in me.”

As they began to duel, Crocodile spoke again.  “I do recall who you are, now. Is a one night stand really something to get that worked up over?”

And Shira, who had only just stood after finally catching her breath, damn near fell to the ground again, hacking with insane laughter.  It was legitimately hurting her throat, but she couldn’t stop.

“Oh… my god,” she choked.  “I was kidding that night!” She gasped, and tried to stop, but started up all over again, barely capable of taking in air.  “It was actually… a one night stand?  _ That’s  _ why?!”  Then she did fall to the ground, the cackling so severe it sent her into a coughing fit.  “I really  _ did  _ hit the nail on the head!”  she rasped, tears streaming down her face.  “You are  _ so  _ pathetic, it hurts!”

Jones turned to attack her again.  “You piece of -”

“I’m sick of you wasting my time,” Crocodile interrupted, shooting his right hand forward and sending Jones flying back with a wall of sand.  “Tailing you was time-consuming enough. I might have killed you ahead of schedule anyway.”

As he walked forward at a steady pace, Shira noticed a different, much more put-together pirate crew enter the sanctuary.  A few of them took out the remainder of the Red Knee crew, while the rest started gathering the villagers and taking them away.  One of them walked over to the two girls.

“Hey, we’re just gonna get all of you out of here while they clean up shop,” the woman said, offering a hand.  Flora nodded and made to go with her, but Shira had other plans.

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” she refused politely.  “I wanna see this through.”

The pirate shrugged.  “Suit yourself.” 

“Oh, but there is one thing,” she said.  “I’m sure Flora would have told you, but we have two men in Intensive Care, as well as a few other injured villagers.  Could you take care of them?”

“No problem,” she responded.  She and Flora, as well as a couple other pirates, headed in that direction.  Shira sighed in relief, and sat herself against the wall to watch the rest.

To her surprise, the blade guy had made short work of Greenie, who was passed out and bleeding profusely in his human form.  Crocodile was still going, but judging by the look of desperation on Jones’ face as she slashed at him fruitlessly, she’d say the man was just milking it for all it was worth.

“Well, I’d say your time is up, Miss Jones,” he said, pointing with his hook to the bodies of her devastated crew.  “Wouldn’t you?”

She only wailed in fury and continued trying to attack him.  He laughed as it passed through his sandy form. “Agree to disagree,” he said, then he grabbed her by the throat.

Shira watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as he mummified his opponent before her very eyes, the woman seeming to just ‘dry up.’  After only a few seconds the process was complete, and he dropped the dehydrated captain to the ground. Shira only looked on in disbelief as the enemy who’d almost destroyed everything she’d ever known was killed in mere seconds.  It made her feel small. Insignificant.

Suddenly, a knife appeared embedded in the ground next to her hand, shaking with the vibration of the speed with which it had been thrown.  She wrenched it out of the stone floor, and looked up to find Crocodile and his first mate staring at her.

“She’s as good as dead anyways,” the captain remarked, “but you might as well.”

Stunned, she could only nod in response.  Shira pushed herself off of the floor, and used the wall to support herself as she slowly made her way over to Jones’ prone form.  Once she reached her destination, she dropped on top of the body, and shoved the knife through the dead woman’s chin, not stopping until it was pushed in to the hilt.

Out of nowhere, she felt like she was out of breath, her hands shaking.  The effort it took to stand left her light-headed.

“Would you happen to be Miss May?” Crocodile asked.  When Shira looked up, she found that she’d been right.  She had to crane her neck to look at him.

“That I would be,” she replied.  “Um, how tall are you, exactly?”

While Crocodile gave a derisive laugh, his first mate favored a suspicious look instead.  “I assume she is delirious.”

“You assume correctly,” she confirmed, swaying on her feet slightly.  “It’s been a rough few days.” Stumbling a bit, she began to walk towards the exit.  “I’m gonna… try to get back to town… without being eaten by Moth Bears. See ya later.”

Shira thought she heard Crocodile say something to one of his subordinates, but couldn’t quite make it out.  Everything was going a little fuzzy. Somehow, a few seconds later, she found herself lying in the arms of a pirate, his face blurry and swimming in and out of view.

“Looks like you need some help, miss,” he said.  Or at least, that’s what she thought he said. Again, everything was going a bit wonky.

“Sure thing,” she yawned.  “I’m just gonna pass out now, if that’s alright with you.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YALL SORRY FOR THE DELAY GEN EDS ARE A BANE ON MY EXISTENCE AND ANTHROPOLOGY CAN SUCK MY ASS FOR ALL ETERNITY ENJOY

**9 Days**

“This is the second time this week I’ve woken up in a hospital and I’m finding I don’t like it very much,”  Shira groaned, her voice coming out as a croak due to the severe strangulation she’d undergone yesterday. At least this time around, the hospitalization had mostly been from exhaustion, and her injuries didn’t really hurt anymore.

As if one cue, Flora pulled back the privacy curtain that surrounded her bed.  “Oh, good, you’re awake!” She entered, and pulled the covers off of her friend.  “Come on, up and at ‘em!”

“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked as Flora closed the curtain again, and dropped a pile of clothes at Shira’s feet.  “Am I not on bed rest or something?”

“Considering that your presence has been requested, the doctors gave the go-ahead.  Now, hurry up!” she scolded, and, still not really knowing why, Shira stripped out of her hospital gown, and began dressing in the clothes Flora provided.  Clothes that seemed strangely… nice? Way nicer than anything she owned.

“Whose clothes are these?” she asked as she pulled on a navy blue - pencil skirt?  She was pretty sure that’s what it was called.

“Well, first of all,” Flora said, “you’re supposed to put the blouse on first.”  She lifted the pink button-down into the air. “Then the skirt, then the blazer. Take off the skirt, I’ll help you.”  Shira obeyed, and as Flora buttoned her blouse, she explained. “The mayor asked me for your sizes this morning, and had these sent over.”

“What?  Why?” she asked, confused, pulling the skirt over the blouse like she was supposed to.

“Apparently,” her friend started, speaking slowly like she was trying to figure out how to word it, “because you were the one who brokered the deal with Crocodile, he requested your presence at the meeting with the mayor.”

Shira proceeded to choke on air as Flora exited, then entered once more with a pair of white flats.  “Yeah, I know,” she said sympathetically, “but we can’t exactly refuse.” She motioned for Shira to put the shoes on, and gave her a once-over.  “Come to the bathroom with me, we need to fix you up.”

Flora took her by her uninjured hand, and dragged her away, past all of the other patients, some with curtains, some without.  One was her brother, who looked just as baffled at her state of dress as she had been. She gave him a quick shrug as fast as she could before she was pulled away.

Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror was an experience.  In the fight at the sanctuary, she’d gotten some cuts she hadn’t noticed until now.  A small one across the bridge of her nose, a thin one trailing down the right side of her face, and who could forget the heavy black hand-shaped bruises around her throat?  She was shocked Flora hadn’t cringed when she walked in.

Flora pulled a brush out of nowhere, and got to work practically ripping the hair out of Shira’s head.   _To be fair, it’s hard to notice what your hair looks like when you’re fighting for your life._ “Ow!” she squawked, then laughed.  “Oh, neither of those noises sound pleasant when my voice is this husky.”

“Now, I don’t think anyone on this island has something that can cover up bruises that dark, and Bayorlish didn’t send a scarf, so Crocodile’s gonna have to deal with that,” she muttered, twisting Shira’s brown hair into a loose topknot.  “There. Mostly presentable.” She patted down some flyaways, and brushed imaginary dust off of Shira’s shoulders. “He sent one of his crew as an escort, the guy is waiting outside. And I have to say, he’s proving to be more of a gentleman than I expected.”

“Being honest, I think Crocodile’s just trying to protect his investment until this deal is over and done with.”  She left the bathroom and made for the entrance, her friend following behind.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Flora acquiesced.  “Well, either way, you look as ready as you’ll ever be.”

“Wow, thanks.”  Shira reached the front door to the hospital, and turned to face Flora.  “Wish me luck.”

“You’re gonna need it.”  They hugged, and Shira opened the door to find a man waiting in a suit.

“Are all of Crocodile’s crew as well dressed as he is?” she asked, studying him.  He had black hair groomed into spikes, green eyes and a scar along his jaw. Not the tallest - he was only about two inches taller than her - but she chose to be wary of him, regardless.

“Not quite,” he replied dryly.  “Can’t be showing him up.” He stuck out a hand, and she shook it firmly, grateful that it was her left hand that had been stabbed and not her right.  “The name’s Vince. I’m the navigator for the Gold Tooth Pirates.”

She nodded, and they began to walk towards the Town Hall.  “Don’t I feel important, getting an escort.”

He tilted his head to the side.  “Boss likes to make sure his deals don’t fall through.”

“Understandable.”

They made polite small talk the whole way, and Shira was pleasantly surprised to find that he was distracting her pretty efficiently from the people waiting for her at their destination.   _Maybe that’s why I have an escort.  To keep me from having a panic attack before I ever get there._

And yet, all good things must come to an end.  The moment she entered the Town Hall, many of her nerves returned, growing ever stronger as she and Vince walked up the stairs to the mayor’s office.  Vince knocked on the door, and they waited briefly, until -

“Enter.”

The pirate held the door open for her, and she thanked him quietly, not surprised when he did not follow.

Right away, she noticed the skewed power balance.  The mayor was seated behind his desk, and should have held the most authority of any person in the room.  But Crocodile had him beat, seated comfortably on the left side of the mayor’s sofa, left elbow resting on the arm of the couch, his chin resting on his hook, and Daz Bones standing at attention at his side.  Maybe it was how relaxed he was, compared to the mayor’s anxious state. Maybe it was because he barely had to lift a finger to kill everyone in the room. Whatever the reason, it left Shira feeling very unsettled.

Her presence seemed to liven up Mayor Bayorlish, however.  “Shira, lovely to see you! I hope you’re feeling better?”

She nodded carefully.  “A little banged up,” she croaked, “but fine, otherwise.”

He nodded.  “Glad to hear it.  Would you like to take a seat?”  he asked, gesturing at the couch, otherwise known as ‘the only furniture in the room one could sit on other than the mayor’s chair.’

 _Absolutely not._ But she sat anyway.  On the opposite end of the sofa.

“So, let’s review the terms of the deal, shall we?”  Bayorlish pulled out a pen and a piece of paper, and began to write.  “In return for Sir Crocodile and his crew, the Gold Tooth Pirates, defeating the Red Knee Pirates, May Shira agreed upon a reward of 60,000,000 Beli.  In order to give the town time to gather the reward, Sir Crocodile agreed to remain on the island with his crew for nine days. This also provides Sir Crocodile with the opportunity to observe the island, and name a reward of his own that he knows we are capable of providing, if we are unable to collect the full 60,000,000.”  He finished the sentence with a flourish of his pen, and looked up. “Anything else?”

Shira bit her lip, waiting for someone else to speak first.  When the room remained silent, she painfully cleared her throat.  “If we were able to organize a trade deal, would you consider the value of the deal to be part of the reward?”

Crocodile took a puff, eyeing her carefully.  “Meaning?”

She fiddled with the edge of her skirt.  “Well, are you planning to keep the merchant ship the Red Knee Pirates sailed in on?”

He gave a lazy shrug.  “I wasn’t sure yet.”

“The Moth Bears here on Narvienne are a large source of income for us.  Whatever we don’t use, we trade if we can. If you leave the boat with us, we can trade with other islands, and have a portion of the income from every trade go to you.”  She tucked a flyaway behind her ear. “If we could hammer out the details in nine days, would you consider it to be part of the reward?”

He smirked, smoke creeping out from behind his teeth, lending him a sinister air.  “Clever.”

Bayorlish lifted his pen.  “Shall I add it to the agreement?”  Crocodile waved him off.

“No, wait until it’s settled.  My only concern now is collateral.”

“Collateral?”  Shira repeated, confused.

The captain nodded.  “If your town can’t gather the reward in nine days, I want something in exchange.”

She frowned.  “But if we don’t have enough of value to provide for a reward, what could we possibly offer as collateral?”

His smirk only grew wider, now stretching the length of his face.  “How about a person? Say…” he removed his cigar from his teeth with his right hand, and used it to point at Shira.  “...you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I like worldbuilding


End file.
